


Generosity and Spite

by SnitchNightly



Category: Friends at the Table (Podcast)
Genre: Fluff, Light Angst, M/M, fero is sad and people try to make him less sad and maybe it works, its ambiguously romantic, set in cold winter, very very brief background death mention? no named characters
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-28
Updated: 2019-01-28
Packaged: 2019-10-18 03:37:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,482
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17573129
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SnitchNightly/pseuds/SnitchNightly
Summary: “You know what I miss?” Fero said, purposefully crunching the snow beneath his boots.Throndir didn’t even look over, focusing on balancing the bundle of firewood on his back. “What do you miss, Fero?”“Carpentry. I used to make stuff! I made all my own furniture, it was awesome.”“I mean, no one's going to stop you. It’s not like we don’t need the help.”Fero wrinkled his nose, breath curling in the air in front of him.“How’s that going to help? We don’t need another guy making cabinets, we need food. I just miss doing it, that’s all.”“Alright, I’m just saying- No one's going to be mad if you wanted to make a chair or something.”Fero kicked at a snowdrift, sending flakes scattering off into the wind.





	Generosity and Spite

**Author's Note:**

  * For [SHAYCH___xxvii](https://archiveofourown.org/users/SHAYCH___xxvii/gifts).



> the doctors are upset. scientists are at a loss. their family is distraught. this bastard can only write cheese.
> 
> i'm one minute past the deadline if i dont hit post i will die immediately im so sorry i dont have time to edit
> 
> the prompt (which was lovely thank you so much!) was basically for fero to have a good day for once during which he maybe dates throndir and ephrim and i am sorry to disappoint but i think he may have had several good days over the course of this fic
> 
> rated t for safety because i dont remember if i said the f word in this one

“You know what I miss?” Fero said, purposefully crunching the snow beneath his boots. 

Throndir didn’t even look over, focusing on balancing the bundle of firewood on his back. “What do you miss, Fero?” 

“Carpentry. I used to make stuff! I made all my own furniture, it was awesome.”

“I mean, no one's going to stop you. It’s not like we don’t need the help.”

Fero wrinkled his nose, breath curling in the air in front of him. 

“How’s that going to help? We don’t need another guy making cabinets, we need food. I just miss doing it, that’s all.” 

“Alright, I’m just saying- No one's going to be mad if you wanted to make a chair or something.”

 

Fero kicked at a snowdrift, sending flakes scattering off into the wind. 

“Yeah well, whatever. We don’t need chairs.”

Seeing the sour look on his face, Throndir hummed under his breath for a minute, thinking.

“...Soup. That’s what I miss, I miss soup.”

Fero stopped in his tracks, incredulous. 

“...What?”

“You miss SOUP? We HAVE soup.”

Throndir laughed, shifting his bundle of fuel to one shoulder to pat Kodiak on the head.

“Not this kind of soup, we don’t. We have a lot of stew, and all, but there was this soup in Anik we used to make, mostly with greens and things. We didn’t have that many plants that actually survived in the snow, so it was pretty rare that we got to eat it. It was…” Throndir looked off into the trees, a faint, distant smile on his face. “It was lighter than anything we have here. Stew is good because it’s filling, and you can make it out of anything, but it’s just… it’s like putting a log on the fire. It’s a thing you do so the fire doesn’t die down, you know?”

 

“I don’t, I don’t know. I don’t eat food.” 

Throndir rolled his eyes good naturedly. 

“Look, it was good soup, that’s all. Not practical for our current situation, but I still miss it.” 

“You miss soup. That’s the thing you miss.”

“Yeah. Pretty much.” He shrugged.

“That’s dumb, who misses soup?”

“I don’t know, who misses making chairs?”

“No, listen, that makes sense. It’s fun. The thing I miss is fun, you just miss soup.”

“It’s fun soup!”

“Wh- Soup isn’t fun, what are you talking about?”

“Ephrim!”

 

Ephrim, a few yards ahead, who had been stoically ignoring them until just now, sighed and glanced over his shoulder. 

“Hm?”

Throndir grinned, not even trying to look serious.

“How fun is soup, right?”

“I… no comment?”

“HA!”

“Fero, I don’t think you he's agreeing with you.”

Fero blew a raspberry in Throndirs direction. 

“Yeah, no, that’s how you win an argument, sure.”

 

Ephrim tried and failed to hide his smile, turning back to the path, but Fero had other ideas. Half running to catch up, he fell in line along side Ephrim, shortly followed by Throndir and Kodiak. 

 

“If your not going to admit that Throndirs thing is bullshit, tell us what your thing is.”

“My… Thing.”

Throndir piped in. “The one thing you miss. Yknow, not like, big picture stuff, little stuff, day to day stuff.” 

 

Eprim sighed, looking down at his boots then up at the tree line, indecisive. 

“...Chess.”

Fero gave him a blank look. 

“It's… a game? With a board and you move pieces around-”

“No, I know what it IS, it's just that its boring and also it sucks! Why do both of you miss things that are boring and also they suck? You're both the worst, and I don't know why I hang out with you.” 

 

Then he stomped off ahead of them into the woods. Ephrim looked at Throndir, who just shrugged. That was how most conversations with Fero ended recently anyways. There wasn't much heat behind it anymore, at least not this time. 

  
  


That was supposedly the end of that. They made it back to the university without Fero mentioning it again, and went their separate ways to store what they had been able to gather. The days went on. People grew hungry, grew sick, died. Fero saw Ephrim less and less, but heard about him more and more. ‘Lord’ Ephrim this. ‘Lord’ Ephrim that. The first time he heard it, he climbed out of a first story window to get out of the conversation. 

 

He was rarely ever in his room. If he was there, people could find him, ask him things, “Fero, are you ok? Aren't you lonely? What happened with the knolls? Where were you? Did you really know Hella Veral?” and other things he didn't feel like answering. But they gave him a few changes of clothes when he came there, and he had to take a bath at some point or no one took him seriously. So he had no way of knowing how long the package had sat by his door, wrapped unceremoniously in a coarse burlap cloth. He almost tripped over it as he entered the room, focused on getting in without anyone noticing him and wanting to talk. He groaned in annoyance and scooped it up, all but throwing it on his bed. 

 

Only after he’d washed and changed clothes did he remember to open it. Despite the plain wrapping, inside the package were a set of sturdy wood carving tools, nicer than most of what  he’d managed to buy, make, or steal before. They weren’t fancy, by any means, just the bare essentials. Much pricier were the handful of decent sized branches, already cleaned of their bark and ready to be carved. Tears of frustration rose to his eyes. A place running out of fuel couldn't afford to use branches for a hobbiest. 

As he ran his fingers over the wood, a deep sadness rose in his chest, too big to deal with, too big to think about. 

He still had the calluses. He hadn't noticed that. 

The carefully penned note almost fell out of his lap as his shoulders shook, but he managed to catch it, and wiped his eyes so he could make it out. 

 

‘ _ Fero- _

_ I know you’re going to be mad at me for this, but I promise we had the supplies left over to get you these. It's not carpentry, exactly, but I figured it's better than nothing. If you really don't want them, just let someone know and I can send them somewhere else. But I mean it when I say no one’s going to look down on you for doing this. It's not going to waste if it makes you happy, trust me. I know you’re having a hard time, but you deserve to be happy as much as anyone here. I’m not trying to appease you, or get you off my back, or make you stay, or whatever you might think I’m trying to do. We just want you to be able to do something that makes you happy. -E’ _

 

At the bottom of the letter, in a much scratchier font, was another, shorter note:

 

‘ _ We helped!’  _ followed by an equally scratchy drawing of someone with long ears and what looked a little like Kodiak. Both figures had big smiles on their faces. 

 

Fero sat on his bed, gift abandoned to one side, knees tucked up to his chest, thinking. He needed to win the argument somehow, prove to both of them that this was just a waste of firewood, and that they should get their priorities straight. 

 

After a minute, he bolted into action, grabbing a piece of charcoal from the kit and marking a small figure into the branch. Then, plan in mind, Fero picked up a knife and started to carve. 

  
  
  
  


Little buds had started to grow on the trees, tiny bright green things. You could only really notice them if you got really close. The reason Fero noticed them was because he was sitting in a tree. Not hiding, technically. People could find him if they really wanted. Probably.

 

Which is why he was NOT upset when someone found him. Not at all. 

 

“Fero!”

He made an undignified noise and almost dropped what he'd been holding. Luckily, he caught it, Unluckily, it was a knife. 

“OW! Shit! What?” 

 

Throndir craned his neck to see through the branches, face wrinkling in concern.

“Oh, geeze, are you ok? I didn't mean to scare you like that. Do you need help?” 

Kodiak snuffled around the base of the tree, looking almost as worried as Throndir.

 

Fero stuffed the little statue of a horse into his pocket, trying to brush off stray bits of wood.

“I’m fine, nothing happened, what’d you want?” 

Throndir folded his arms and glared up at Fero through the branches. 

“...Don’t look at me like that! What, what’d I do?”

“Come down from the tree, Fero.”

Throndirs voice was warm, but his face looked like he was about to scold a child for stealing apples from an orchard. 

“...If I do will you leave me alone?”

Throndir rolled his eyes. From behind Fero, Kodiak let out a half bark.

“Fine, whatever, I’m coming.”

It took him significantly more time to climb down than it did up, mostly because this time he had one hand wrapped up in his jacket out of his friends sight, trying to stop the bleeding. 

When he finally got to the ground, he looked up at Throndir with his best ‘This isnt getting to me in the slightest what are you talking about’ face. 

“Hey, big guy, what’d you need?”

Kodiak stuck his big cold nose into Feros pocket with the injured hand.

“HEY!”

“Show me your hand, Fero.”

“PERSONAL SPACE, YOU OVERGROWN BARN CAT!” 

Kodiak wagged his tail, tongue lolling out of his mouth. Fero was so focused on being upset with Kodiak, that he hardly noticed Throndir pull a strip of fabric out of his bag and take his injured hand by the wrist.

 

“What are you doing?”

Throndir glanced up at him, not bothering to answer the question. 

“You know, if you're bleeding you should tell someone.”

“I’m NOT bleeding.” Fero said decisively, blood dripping from his thumb. 

Fero didn't think dogs could give withering looks, but apparently Kodiak had figured it out. 

“...I’m NOT.” He repeated, mostly to the dog. Kodiak huffed. 

 

Throndir finished wrapping the small scrap of cloth around Feros thumb, tying it in a secure knot so it wouldn’t get in the way while he was doing things.

“There. You gonna tell me what you were making?”

Fero narrowed his eyes. 

“You’re literally still holding the knife I know you were carving.” 

Fero opened his mouth. Then he closed his mouth. After a bit of this, he sighed and pulled the half carved figure out of his pocket. 

 

“Oh! It’s a… little… uh…”

“It’s GOING to be a HORSE. I’m not done yet.” 

Fero tried to shove it back in his coat, but Throndir was faster than he remembered, catching his wrist again.

“No, Fero, let me look. Please?”

For a second the look on his face reminded Fero of Kodiak begging for scraps.

“...Yeah, sure. I don’t know why you’re so interested, though, it’s just a horse.”

“It’s really cool! I always wanted to learn how to carve, honestly, I just never have the time. Is this part going to be the head?”

 

Fero spent some time answering Throndirs questions. There were a lot of them. What type of wood do you use? Why is the knife shaped like that? How do you not get splinters all the time? 

It was overwhelming, but Throndir looked… bright. It was easy to forget that he and Ephrim were just  _ people _ , people who asked questions and made mistakes and  _ learned,  _ instead of some all powerful gods that knew the answers to everything. It was like there was pressure on their shoulders to be 100% sure of what they were doing constantly. 

 

Eventually, Throndir had to go do Ranger Things, and Fero clambered back up to his tree and kept carving. 

When he finished, he looked at the small wooden horse in his hand, flat pedestal on the bottom, front legs rearing in the air. He could probably do the rest himself. Probably. But that would take a while. Decided, Fero marched back to his room and cut two identical pieces of wood from the branch, just big enough for two more figures.

  
  


Throndir was good at a lot of things. He could ride a horse. People liked him. He had pretty good aim. His hair was always fluffy and looked really really soft. But he SUCKED at wood carving. 

 

Fero looked up from his own carving and sighed. Throndir was staring intently at the horse carving Fero did yesterday, holding his own block up to compare them. 

Eventually, he sighed, “Fero. My horse doesn’t look like a horse.” And flopped on his back in the grass. 

 

Fero leaned over to inspect his students work. “Nope. You’re bad at this.”

Throndir groaned and put his hands over his face.

“Like, really bad.”

“I know! I tried to make it look like yours, but it’s all  _ lumpy. _ ”

Fero laughed, patting his dejected friend on the stomach. 

“Yeah, well, if it’s lumpy it means you’re not done yet. Here, look at mine.” 

He shoved his current work into Throndirs line of sight.

“...What’s it gonna be?” 

“A castle.”

“You can make a whole castle out of that much wood?”

“Nah, only a little one.”

“That’s… wild, how do you fit it all?”

“That!” Fero said emphatically, shaking the carving in front of Throndirs face “is not the point! Here, hold on.”

 

Fero shuffled over to sit by Throndirs head, and unceremoniously lifted his head up and settled it in his lap so Throndir could see what his hands were doing. 

“See this bit? It’s still kinda lumpy, right, like your horse looks? But if I take this file thing, I can smooth out the edges- watch your eyes there’s gonna be some dust-“ 

 

Fero focused back in on the carving, periodically turning it to get a better angle with the file. He wasn’t sure how long he’d been doing it when Throndir reached up to take the file. After that, all he had to do was guide Throndirs hands, pointing him in the right direction. 

 

He was a fast learner, and probably didn’t need Feros help at this point, but Fero kept his hands there. Just in case. Besides. Throndir hadn’t said anything about it, so it was probably fine. Maybe some people just learned better that way, and that was fine, and also made Fero a very good teacher who wasn’t doing this to hold hands with anyone at all. 

  
  


They spent weeks doing that, meeting by the same tree when they had time to spare, carving small wooden figures with flat bottoms. Throndir had gotten pretty good at making the initial shapes, as long as he knew what to make, and Fero finished them with the file and some tree sap, to make them smooth and shiny. So far he’d been able to dodge Throndirs questions about what they were for, but sooner or later, the set would be finished and he’d have to explain. 

 

“Fero.” 

“Oh. Hey, you’re early.” He started climbing down from his spot nestled in the trees branches. When he got to the bottom, Throndir wasn’t sitting in the grass with his carving like he usually did, but standing with his arms folded and a suspiciously wide grin on his face.

“Fero.”

“ _ What.” _

“We’re making a chess set.”

Feros blood ran cold. 

“I asked Rosanna if there was something people used little figures of castles and people and horses for and she told me those are what go in chess sets.”

Fero swallowed nervously. 

“So?”

Throndir leaned closer, his grin making Fero feel a little like a rabbit cornered by a hound. His teeth looked sharper, somehow. 

“You’re making a chess set for Ephrim. You’re being  _ nice.” _

“No! No, I’m making a chess set because chess is stupid and Ephrim should have used the wood for fire. It’s pointless, it’s just a thing fancy people do to feel better than other people.”

Throndirs face fell.

“I thought you liked the gift.” His voice was soft. Too soft.

“It doesn’t make any sense! I don’t need a gift! What’s the point in being happy about something when everything else sucks? I ha-“

 

Throndir cut him off, wordlessly pulling him close by the shoulders. When Fero didn’t immediately try to leave, Throndir wrapped his arms around him in a hug, burying his face in Feros shoulder. 

Fero didn’t dare move. Throndirs cloak was soft and heavy, patched with scraps of fur too small to use. His head was a comforting weight on Feros shoulder, skin colder than he thought it would be but breath warm. Little by little, inch by inch, Fero raised his arms up to hug him back. He felt like Throndir might push him away at any moment, like one of them would run like a wild animal. But Throndir just held him tighter, taking a deep, shuddering breath as if he hadn’t been breathing.

They stayed there for a while. But Fero wasn’t very good at staying still. 

“Hey. Throndir.”

Throndir made a noise into Feros shirt.

“How do you make your hair so soft?”

 

And the moment was over.

 

They didn’t talk much about it after that. They did keep working on the chess set together. Occasionally Throndir would say something like “Ephrims going to  _ love  _ this” or “Should we wrap it? I think we should wrap it.”. Fero just responded with “Yeah, I guess.” Or “Who cares.”, if he responded at all. 

Throndirs work was steadily improving, to the point where Fero let him carve most of the pawns on his own, from start to finish. 

To his relief, Throndir was much better at painting the figures than he was at carving them, and they spent the last day coating half the pieces in a dark dye they made from crushing leaves and berries. (Throndir sword up and down that the berries weren’t edible or medicinal, only ever used as a pigment, and easy enough to find that no one had to go out of their way. Fero double checked with Rosanna anyway.) 

They looked more navy blue than black when they dried, but Throndir insisted they looked better that way, so they declared it finished, apart from the board. Fero didn’t feel like the board was necessary, but Throndir had already asked someone to draw one out on a bark mat when they had the time, so it was out of his hands anyway. 

As long as it wasn’t wasting anything important.

 

Since the pieces were finished, and all they had to do was wait for the mat, Throndir convinced Fero to teach him how to play, mostly as a distraction to keep him from repainting the entire set. 

 

They sat down under their tree, (Fero wasn’t sure when it had become  _ their  _ tree instead of  _ his  _ tree) and drew out a grid in the dirt. Half the squares had pebbles placed on them, marking where each side could move. 

 

Throndir watched carefully as Fero set up the board, following his hands every time a piece was placed. After a minute, Fero realized Kodiak had perked up, also watching Feros hands. He set up one of the pawns without looking at the board, and saw both of their heads move in unison. 

 

Despite his keen focus, Throndir was not good at chess. This didn’t discourage him at all, however. With every loss he prodded Fero with questions about how the game worked until he decided he knew exactly where he went wrong and just  _ had  _ to play another game,  _ cmon  _ Fero, I can  _ definitely  _ beat you this time, I just  _ know it! _

 

They played a lot of games. Fero decided it was because he liked to win at things.

 

Throndir was having a particularly bad game, when Kodiak, who had been calmly watching them the whole time, stopped his hand with a paw. 

Throndir, about to place a piece, looked at his dog.

“...Not there?”

To Feros amazement, Kodiak shook his huge, shaggy head. “Ok. How about… here?” 

Kodiak looked disdainfully at Throndir. 

“No, you’re right, that’s a bad idea. Here? No, ok. Oh! There.” 

Kodiak huffed in approval, tail thumping on the dead grass. 

 

A few minutes later, Fero was in stitches with laughter. 

“I can’t believe you won a chess match because your dog took over!” 

“He didn’t take over! We collaborated.” Throndir said, pretending to look hurt. Kodiak apparently disagreed, putting one huge paw on Throndirs chest, toppling him over. 

Fero doubled over laughing again, desperately trying to catch his breath.

“NOPE! He’s not- he’s not gonna take your shit, Throndir, Kodiak-“ he interrupted himself with a fit of giggles “Kodiak is better at chess than both of us and we just have to admit it!” 

“HE'S A VERY SMART BOY!” Throndir yelled, still pinned to the ground. Kodiak lifted his paw, tail wagging triumphantly. 

 

Fero fell asleep with his cheeks sore from smiling.

 

It wasn’t exactly a well wrapped package, by any means. They’d meant to put all the pieces inside the mat and fold it up, but it was harder to do than they thought. So Fero, ignoring Throndirs protests, threw it all in his extra shirt and bundled it up with twine. Now, waiting outside the unofficial throne room for Ephrim to be done, Fero felt nervous. Maybe he should have wrapped it better. What if it gets thrown out without being opened? What if Ephrim hates it? What if-

A big fuzzy thing landed on his lap, making him jump. Kodiak huffed at him, shuffling all four paws closer to the bench he was sitting on. 

“It’s ok to be nervous.” 

Throndir smiled kindly at him, patting the bundle sitting between them. “He’s going to love it.”

Fero scowled, pretending to have a bad time petting Kodiak.

“I’m  _ not  _ nervous.”

“I know. It’s ok.”

 

A few minutes later, a rush of people exited the meeting hall. Once it was possible to get through the crowd, Fero scooped up the package and marched towards the door, Throndir and Kodiak behind him. 

A spear blocked his path. “Halt. What is your business here?” The unstill guard looked down at them coldly, not budging an inch.

“I’m here to see Ephrim I have some stuff for him.” 

Fero said breezily. The guard was unphased. 

Fero shook the parcel.

“Yknow. Like, a gift? Do you need me to call him Lord Ephrim? Because that’s not going to happen.” 

Throndir put a hand on Feros shoulder. 

“Hi, Guardsman Miguel. He’s with me.”

The guards stance softened a little, and Fero was tempted to make a break for it, but Throndir squeezed his shoulder reassuringly. 

“Lance Noble. My apologies, but I still need your purpose, and the name of your friend.”

“Lance Noble Throndir and The Druid, Fero Feritas to see Lord Ephrim. Our purpose is a social visit and an exchange of goods.”

The guards eyes widened, and Fero felt like he wanted to disappear into the floor like a fish he saw once. 

“Understood. Have a pleasant day, Ranger. And… you, as well, Druid.”

Throndir thanked the guard and nudged Fero forward into the room. 

 

It wasn’t a throne room, exactly, but it was close enough to make Fero uncomfortable. A good number of chairs were set up, volunteers streaming in and out of the room to take them back to the mess hall. Corsica Nue was standing off to one side, hands clasped neatly behind her back as she listened intently to one of the mothkin who’s name Fero didn’t know. 

If Ephrim was a less graceful man, he could be described as slumped down in his chair as he poured over documents from the meeting. But Ephrim wouldn’t be caught dead ‘slumping’, so he was doing the graceful, dignified version of slumping. Whatever that’s called. 

 

Kodiak barked, trotting happily up the slightly raised platform to greet Ephrim, who only managed to look only a little startled. 

 

“Kodiak. Did you come in just to see me, or did you bring Throndir with you too?” Kodiak wagged his tail, leaning his chin on the arm of Ephrims chair to have his ears scratched.

 

“I think he likes you more than he likes me, honestly.”

Ephrim smiled down at Kodiak, tired but warm.

“It’s because I spoil him. I’m sure he likes you just as much.”

Ephrim sighed and looked up at the two of them.

“What can I- Fero?”

For a moment, Fero shrunk back, eyes darting to the door. But the shock on Ephrims face melted into a smile.

“That’s a nice surprise. It’s good to see you, have you been doing alright?”

 

Feros immediate answer was ‘ _ no, no I haven’t, everything here is going down the drain and you know it’ _ but the weight in his arms reminded him why he was there.

 

He marched up to where Ephrim sat and plopped the parcel down in his lap.

 

“This is yours.”

 

Ephrim raised one eyebrow.

“It’s… your shirt. You brought me… your shirt.”

 

“No, I brought you the thing in the shirt. I didn’t bring you my shirt.”

“Will you be wanting the shirt back, or…”

“YES. YES I WANT THE SHIRT BACK.”

Ephrims lips quirked up a little, like he was actively trying not to smirk.

“That’s good, because from what I’m told you only have three.”

At Feros expression he burst out laughing and held his hands up in surrender. 

“Sorry, I’m sorry, I’ll stop. Thank you for the gift. Should I open it now or later?”

 

“Later.” Fero said, at the exact same time that Throndir said “Now!” 

Ephrim stared at them, one hand on the twine.

Fero sighed.

“.....Now.”

 

Ephrim shot him an indulgent smile that made his blood boil just a little, and began carefully untying the twine. At this point Throndir had joined him on the platform, bouncing on his heels as he waited for Ephrim to see his gift. 

 

A knight piece fell from the parcel first. Ephrim held it up to the light, polite as ever. 

“It’s a little horse! It’s beautiful, Fero, did you carve this?” 

Fero glanced at Throndir, who just grinned.

Ephrim pulled out a rook, and examined it carefully. 

“It looks like one of the towers here.” He murmured.

“I-“ he cut himself off, eyes wide, and started digging around frantically for another piece. Throndir chuckled excitedly, punching Feros shoulder lightly to make sure he was seeing it. As if he wasn’t watching. As if he could look away.

 

Piece after piece lined the arms of Ephrims chair. Finally, he unrolled the mat. 

It was nicer than Fero had expected, the squares painted in the same dark blue as the pieces. Around the border was a finely detailed flowering vine, tiny flowers breaking the monochromatic color scheme. 

 

Ephrim sat there staring at it with his hands over his mouth, long enough for Fero to start fidgeting. 

 

Throndir cleared his throat. “Ephrim, is this… good? Do you like it?”

 

Ephrim nodded emphatically, wiping at his eyes. 

“No, no don’t cry, listen, I did this out of spite.”

Ephrim laughed, throwing his head back.

“I helped! Not out of spite.”

 

Once he’d recovered, Ephrim practically demanded they both play him in a few days, when he had the time. 

Fero tried to practice with Throndir and Kodiak, but it was harder without an actual set. They tried using different rocks with letters painted on them, but it got very confusing very fast. 

 

Despite that, Fero was determined to win. 

 

Somehow, beating Ephrim at chess would prove his point, and he would win the argument. This was still an argument, he told himself when Throndir proudly showed him a crumpled piece of paper with all the rules written down. It’s still an argument, he thought, when Ephrim opened the door with his hair down around his shoulders and his eyes bright. 

I’m doing this to win an argument. That’s it.

 

Ephrims room was surprisingly unadorned. The nicest things in it were Ephrims clothes, most of which had faded with time and use. It was a little bigger, big enough for the four of them, counting Kodiak, a table, and a bed, but that was the main difference. There was a worn rug in the corner that Kodiak trotted over to immediately and lay down, making Fero think that might be the rugs only purpose.

The chess set was already carefully arranged in a place of honor on the table. 

Ephrim slid neatly into a chair on one side of the board, folding his hands expectantly. “Well.” He said, trying to keep the excitement out of his voice. “Who would like to start?”

 

Throndir volunteered, and made a valiant attempt to hold his own, before being completely destroyed. Ephrim was  _ good,  _ not just ‘knows how to play’ good, but ‘has a hard time finding a challenging opponent’ good. He let Throndir try a few more times, going a little easier. He’d make an obvious mistake and see if Throndir could take the opening, and if not, he’d decimate him and kindly explain exactly what went wrong. 

 

Kodiak stayed in the corner, after every match he’d tilt his head to the side and give Throndir a look as if to say ‘See? I told you. Is it my turn yet?’. Mostly he was met with a glare. Once, when Ephrims back was turned, Fero saw Throndir stick his tongue out at Kodiak like a child. 

 

Fero was next. The matches were much tenser, Ephrim not bothering to hold back. Neither of them spoke much. Because they were missing a chair, Throndir sat on the floor, his head just peeking over the table enough to see. Kodiak lumbered over to the table as well, sitting on the other side. If Ephrim had anything to say about the two of them watching the pieces move in unison, he held back, though he did occasionally shoot Fero a fond look of amusement. 

 

Almost every match went down to the wire, but Ephrim was somehow just a step ahead each time. Eventually, Fero leaned back in the chair and groaned dramatically. 

“FINE, you win, you’re good at chess, whatever.”

Ephrim blinked in surprise. “...We still have time for another match, don’t we?” 

Throndir grinned. 

“Not with Fero, you don’t! You have one more challenger, Lord Ephrim.”

Fero scooted his chair out of the way. “Kodiak’s turn.” He said, nonchalantly.

“...Kodiak. The dog? Kodiak the dog.”

 

Kodiak solemnly placed a large paw on the table. And nodded.

 

Because of his lack of thumbs, Kodiak played through a combination of Feros ability to speak with animals and just barking when they picked the right piece. It took twice as long, but Fero noticed a wrinkle developing between Ephrims eyebrows. He was more laser focused than ever, having quickly gotten over the shock of playing chess with a dog. 

The match went on, and on, and on, somehow both players being perfectly matched. Until finally,  _ finally,  _ a conclusion was reached. 

 

Fero slammed his hand on the floor. “HA! Chessmate.”

 

Ephrim stared at the board for a second, before slowly turning his head to look at Fero.

“I… I know I just lost to Kodiak, who is somehow better at chess than both of you combined, but… I think you mean checkmate?”

“Why would it be checkmate, the games not called check.”

Ephrim turned to Throndir, who shrugged. “I mean, Id say chessmate, but I only learned three days ago and Fero taught me, so…”

“...Am I wrong? Is it chessmate?” Ephrim whispered, stared blankly at the board like the world was crumbling around him and it was the last solid thing.

Fero laced his hands behind his head and grinned.

“It’s three to one so, uh, yeah, I think it’s chessmate.”

Kodiak boofed indignantly. Throndir clapped his hands together. “Ok, let’s see. Kodiak, is it checkmate or chessmate?”

 

All eyes on him, Kodiak looked serenely from Fero and Throndir to Ephrim, and then…

 

Trotted over to sit by Ephrim.

 

“THRONDIR, YOUR DOG IS A TRAITOR!”

 

The argument continued for sometime into the evening. At some point, Ephrim retrieved a book on chess, which convinced Throndir, but Fero felt it was still inconclusive. 

 

Time went on. People grew hungry. Grew sick. Died. 

Fero saw more of Ephrim, but not enough that it wasn’t a shock when he showed up at Feros door, carrying two neatly folded aprons. It took him a moment to speak, looking at his boots, then the doorframe, anywhere except Feros face. Finally, he cleared his throat, ignored how red his ears where, and spoke.

 

“Fero, I need your help with some soup.”

 

END

**Author's Note:**

> chess dog best dog am i rIGHT FOLKS anyways happy secret samol sorry again


End file.
